


What's the Prize?

by socknonny



Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Competition, M/M, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-27
Updated: 2018-05-13
Packaged: 2019-04-28 14:13:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14450982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/socknonny/pseuds/socknonny
Summary: Billy challenges Steve to a car race.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well I'm sick and a little bored and it's my birthday tomorrow SO fic appears. This was meant to be a short one-shot, but hey look at that, Billy had other ideas. Don't worry, I'll come back to finish it!

Steve’s jaw clenched when he heard the unmistakable rumble of Billy’s Camaro pulling up beside him.

“You’re in my way, dickhead,” he called out the open window without looking.

He knew what he’d see; he didn’t have to look. And yet, he still only lasted a handful of seconds before his head was turning of its own accord. Yep, there he was: Billy Hargrove, teeth bared in a blinding smile and tongue running a long line across them. Seriously, what was this guy’s problem? He’d been a lot easier to handle lately, but he was still a dick.

“You in a hurry or something, Harrington?” Billy yelled back, not giving any indication that he was about to move and let Steve out of the parking lot.

Billy’s eyes were bright with something a little wild. It made Steve uneasy, but he couldn’t look away.

“The only hurry I’m in is to get away from staring at your ugly mug.”

Billy whooped, smacking the steering wheel and laughing. “You’ve got bite, Harrington. Maybe _King Steve_ isn’t dead after all.”

Steve raised his hand in a mock salute, wishing that Billy would just hurry the fuck up and get out of the way.

“Tell you what, Harrington,” Billy yelled over the stereo, revving his engine. “I’ll race you to the quarry. Bet your piece of shit rich boy’s car won’t make it.”

Something stirred in Steve’s chest—something hot and reckless and a little stupid.

“I’ll leave you in the dust, Hargrove.” He leaned his elbow in the window and stared Billy down. “Tell you what: you beat me there, and I’ll buy that shitheap you call a car a new cassette player.”

Billy’s grin grew wider. “It’s on, Harrington.” He revved the engine.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Steve held up a hand. “What’ll you get me if I win?”

“Don’t worry, pretty boy. I’ll get you something.” Billy’s eyes darkened, but before Steve could say anything in return, he’d floored it and taken off down the street.

Steve scrambled to follow, cutting in front of his English teacher’s little mini cooper, ignoring her indignant rebuke, and tearing after the sound of the Camaro. It didn’t take him long to catch up.

The wind whipped through his hair, the spring air bringing with it the scent of freshly cut grass and flowers. It was nothing like the Upside Down, and Steve let out a yell of delight without even meaning to. Billy’s eyes cut to his in the rear-view mirror, the edges crinkled with amusement and a hint of white, white teeth showing below.

The music from the Camaro grew louder, and Steve countered it by turning up The Police until all he could hear was King of Pain.

The Camaro rounded a corner so fast it almost hit two wheels, and Steve followed without slowing. The town was fading into the distance behind them, and it was just the two of them on the road now. Everyone else was on their way home, eating dinner, talking about their normal, boring days.

Steve gripped the steering wheel tighter and followed Billy around another corner, their tyres squealing against the asphalt. He knew a shortcut up ahead. He slowed down just a fraction, until he was certain that Billy had passed it, and then he turned down the dirt track, laughing madly as he saw the Camaro slow in the distance. He imagined the shock and rage on Billy’s face and couldn’t stop laughing at the thought.

He drove faster, the wind biting against his face and making him feel alive in a way he had barely felt in over a year.  

The quarry came into sight, and Steve slowed to a stop off to the side. It only took a few seconds for Billy to appear, pulling in beside him and glaring at him.

“Didn’t take you for a cheater, Harrington!” he yelled over the idling of their engines, but he was smiling.

The same vibrant energy that was currently filling Steve’s chest was right there in Billy’s eyes; Steve could see it. He wondered if Billy knew it, if he could feel it in the same rapid breaths that Steve was drawing, the same racing heartbeat.

“What do I win?” Steve asked.

Billy’s lips curved into a slow smile. He reached to the front of his shirt, plucked something out and over his head, and threw it out the window.

Steve caught it, frowning. It was a necklace. It looked like some kind of saint or something.

He looked back at Billy, ready to complain about the shitty prize, but whatever he was going to say died in his throat. Billy was staring at him, eyes dark.

“That’s part one,” he yelled.

Then, he winked.

Steve’s heart started to race, though he couldn’t say why, but Billy was already gone—pulling away from the quarry with his music blaring once more.

Steve looked back down at the necklace and wondered why Billy’s words had sounded so much like a promise.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hmmm so this might end up longer than expected... I'm not sure. I'll leave it as unfinished for now, though I think this makes a cute little ending as well for a short ficlet. I think I'll probably come back to it though.

Steve managed to corner Max the next day while he was dropping Dustin at school, though he still hadn’t figured out exactly what he wanted to ask her. He knew, somehow, that he couldn’t tell anyone about the necklace. On the surface it had just been a bit of fun—a token prize for a stupid game that hadn’t meant anything. But Steve knew it was also something more, even if he didn’t know what.

He eventually settled on asking, “What’s up with your brother?”

“He’s not my brother.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Your half-brother. What’s up with him?”

“Um. He’s insane?” Max stared at him, eyes fierce and shoulders hugged defensively up around her ears.

“Yeah, but he’s insane in, like, a normal way now.”

Max snorted. “Yeah, well. I don’t know. This is how he used to be before we came here. He’s always been a dick, but when we moved he was just so _angry._ I guess now he’s not?”

Before Steve could ask anything further, Max threw her skateboard onto the ground and sped off to catch up with the others. She was right; Billy no longer seemed angry. At least, not in the same way. And he’d given Steve a necklace.

Correction: he’d given Steve part one of something, which just happened to be a necklace.

Steve shook his head and got back into his car; nothing was any clearer for his little chat with Max. If anything, it was more confusing.

He wound down the window, leaned his elbow in the corner, and drummed his fingers against the door. The wind caught in his hair, threatening to tangle it if it wasn’t already sprayed stiff to perfection with Farrah Fawcett spray. The icy-cold of the breeze sent goose-bumps rising along his skin, but he didn’t close the window. It was electrifying.

He pulled into the parking lot and spotted the Camaro immediately. Billy was leaning against the door, smoking the last of his cigarette, and his eyes fell to Steve the second he came into sight.

Steve parked beside him, a strange sensation bubbling in his chest. He was full of something, something that came with the wind and the cold and the speed of the car flying down the road. He was here, he was _alive_ , and all of a sudden, he wanted to act like it.

“What’s part two?” He propped himself on the hood in front of Billy, ankles crossed, and waited.

Billy’s hand paused, froze for the briefest of seconds, before he brought the cigarette to his lips and took a long pull.

“Where’s part one?” he asked instead of answering the question.

His eyes fell to Steve’s shirt, and it was as if he could see right through the fabric to the chain beneath. Steve wasn’t usually the kind of person to blush, but heat rose in his cheeks as Billy studied him. Those blue eyes tracked a path along his torso, and then up, up, until they met Steve’s gaze.

Billy’s lips quirked, his eyebrows lifting in surprise for just a second before his expression turned neutral once again. Steve had the unnerving thought that Billy had just received an answer to a question Steve hadn’t known he was asking.

“Are you busy tonight?” Billy asked, dropping the cigarette and grinding it under his boot.

“Free as a bird.”

“Great.” His lips pulled back in a smile. “I’ll come by at seven.”

And then, just like his sister, he walked away leaving Steve unnerved and uncertain what had just happened.

It was a miracle Steve got any work done at all that day, his thoughts were so focused on Billy: the way his eyes had roamed across Steve’s body, the hint of genuine pleasure in his smile when Steve had agreed to… well… to whatever he’d agreed to.

A small part of him was nervous, unsure what Billy was planning. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew that whatever was happening between the two of them was unusual. It was probably the sort of thing you didn’t want to advertise in a small town like Hawkins, and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to stop it. Still, he was nervous.

When his doorbell rang at ten to seven, he’d soared well past nervous and climbed close to terrified.

He steeled himself, wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans, and opened the door. Whatever he’d been about to say died in his throat. His heart started to race at the sight of Billy standing on his doorstep like a model, hip slightly cocked and his thumbs hooked casually through his belt.  

Steve’s eyes dropped straight to Billy’s chest—every bare inch of it that was on display beneath the open black shirt he’d barely buttoned up. Without the necklace there, it looked somehow more naked, and Steve’s fingers twitched for reasons that he’d rather not examine. It took every ounce of Steve’s control not to let his eyes fall any lower to where he swore Billy’s jeans were tighter than normal.

He’d done something to his hair, too. His curls were perfectly positioned, and he smelled like heaven.

Steve’s mouth gaped a little. When he finally met Billy’s eyes, Billy didn’t even bother to hide his amusement. It was a look Steve had never seen on him—open and warm and real.

“Um,” Steve said.

“Hi.”

Steve’s heart stuttered. Somehow, just that single word spoke volumes. The purr in Billy’s voice, the richness, left no confusion about what was happening. Although, Steve was still pretty hazy on the details.

“Ready for part two?” Billy asked.

“What— What _is_ part two?”

Billy’s eyebrows lifted in mock surprise, like it should be obvious, like he wasn’t deliberately trying to throw Steve completely off his game for his own amusement. Then, Billy took pity on him, smile softening and a hint of nerves appearing behind the bravado.

“A date.”

The words echoed around in Steve’s mind until all he could hear was Billy’s slow, laconic drawl. For a terrible moment, Steve thought it might all be a joke. Then, he took in the way Billy’s shoulders had stiffened just a little, the sudden, sharp edge to his smile.

It was real. The moment that hit him, his chest swelled with something impossibly warm, impossibly light and full. A relief he hadn’t expected coursed through him—relief that it wasn’t all in his head, and, unexpectedly, relief that it wasn’t going to be a rushed blow job in a dark room.

Steve had never been asked on a date before; he’d always done the asking.

He smiled at Billy, unable to hold back the giddy excitement that was bubbling inside him. The grin of delight he got in return was like the sun bursting through a cloud.

“Just lemme get changed.”

“Sure thing, pretty boy.”

He didn’t need much time to get ready; he’d already spent an embarrassing amount of time on his appearance just knowing Billy was coming over. He just wanted to do one thing, though.

He raced up the stairs and dived into his closet, conscious of Billy slowly following. He wasn’t sure why, but he wanted to surprise him. He just needed a few seconds; he’d seen what he was looking for earlier today.

A flash of blue caught his eye, and he grabbed the shirt and dragged it off the hanger, eyes alight with triumph. Billy’s footsteps were nearing the top of the stairs now; Steve could practically hear the curiosity in his slow procession, almost see him examining the photos on the walls, the sterile cleanliness of everything.

He whipped off his shirt and threw it behind him, tugging the other one on and adjusting his hair with moments to spare.

Billy stopped in the doorway, eyes widening. When he finally met Steve’s gaze, there was something a little vulnerable in his expression. He leaned against the door frame.

“Nice shirt, Harrington.”

“Nice chest, Hargrove.”

Billy laughed, head tipped back and eyes bright.

Steve adjusted his collar, the “v” of the shirt shifting into place so that the necklace was perfectly framed by the pale-blue fabric. Billy’s eyes dropped down to it again, and this time they darkened with heat. An answering hunger stirred in Steve’s abdomen, filling him with sweet anticipation.

Billy gave his head a little shake and stepped away from the doorway. His expression lightened, and he seemed to visibly push aside the rising heat that was building between them, postponing it as if their date was somehow more important than getting laid.

As if getting to know Steve meant something.

Steve grabbed his wallet and walked over to meet him. Billy reached out and hooked a finger around the chain, lifting it away from Steve’s chest and letting it swing.

“Suits you.”

“Thanks, man.”

Billy licked his lips. “Looks _good_ on you.”

Steve’s heart stuttered, heat rising along his neck and cheeks. When girls told him he looked good, it was like being complimented by someone’s mom: “you look handsome, Steve,” or, “that shirt really suits you, Steve”. He’d never been complimented like _this_ before.

“Your car or mine?” he asked, trying to change the subject so he could think straight again.

“I’m driving.” Billy grinned suddenly, eyes a little wild in a way that made Steve’s blood sing. “Someone’s gotta show you how a real car drives.”

Soon they were speeding down the darkening road, music blaring and hearts thumping with adrenaline. Steve gave up trying to think straight and just gave into the moment—a little wild, a little reckless, and very, very alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Skip this note if you don't want to read a rant that has nothing to do with anything)
> 
> Urgh you know those days where every little thing just adds up until you're this big pile of emotion because you've had to just compartmentalize everything but it just keeps COMING and everyone is so...... THERE. They're just all so THERE. And when you're struggling to meet deadlines because there is just zero inspiration???? And so much work to do???? And you just want to sleep???? Oh well. Hopefully this fic ignited some inspiration and I can get something done now because I sure as shit wasn't before........


	3. Chapter 3

They passed the border to Hawkins and kept driving. Steve didn’t know where Billy was taking him, but he wasn’t worried. Every so often, Billy would glance over at him and something would flash between them, something sharp and electric. It was enough to make Steve lean back in the seat, eyes closed, and just feel the rumble of the road passing beneath them.

Billy turned down the stereo. The wailing of the guitar and the screaming of the singer suddenly halved, and Steve snapped his eyes open again. They were slowing, pulling into the parking lot of a diner that Steve recognised from a road trip long ago. When Billy cut the engine, everything fell silent, and for a moment they just waited.

The lights from the diner didn’t quite reach the car, and in the fading sunlight they were almost in shadow. At first, disappointment sunk in Steve’s stomach as he eyed the dingy roadhouse diner, but he quickly understood. They were two guys; it wasn’t like they could go to a restaurant together. Even the movies would raise eyebrows since they _clearly_ weren’t the kind of guys to hang out without a group.

He looked over and saw Billy watching him, an unlit cigarette hanging from between his lips.

“You good?” he drawled, and there was something in his voice—a hesitation that Steve never would have expected.

“Yeah, man.”

He wasn’t sure how to act with Billy yet; they were in unchartered waters. Something more than friends, but barely friends either. He couldn’t talk to him the way he talked to the girls he dated. That would just… not be good. He took a moment to briefly imagine reaching out across the space between them and tucking Billy’s hair behind his ears. It would almost be worth it just for the look on Billy’s face.

Instead, guided by some playful urge he’d never quite experienced on a date before, he leaned forward, flicked Billy’s earring, and smiled. He tried to use the gesture to let Billy know it was okay, this was okay.

The unease faded from Billy’s face, replaced by a grin that took Steve’s breath away.

No one gave them a second look when they entered the diner. They just looked like two guys on their way to a party. After taking a second to look for the best spot, they made their way down the back where it was a bit darker.

Billy slid across the seat at the very back, immediately sprawling so that his arms were laid out across the top of the chair, his legs spread wide. Steve couldn’t help their knees knocking together as he slid in opposite him. It made him hyper aware of how close they were—how bizarre this all was.

Steve leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table and drumming his fingers against the surface. “So,” he said, dragging out the word as he stared into Billy’s blue eyes. “A date.”

Billy ran his tongue over his teeth in that way that pissed Steve off just as much as it turned him on. “You disappointed with your prize?”

“Hell no. Just wondering what happens now.”

The words came easily, as if he’d spent years talking to Billy Hargrove instead of a handful of scattered weeks.

Something unreadable crossed Billy’s features, but it was gone just as quickly. He leaned forward and mirrored Steve’s posture. “Don’t know,” he admitted. “Didn’t think you’d say yes.” He laughed, a breathless huff of air. “Thought I’d get punched, actually.”

Steve raised his eyebrows. “What? Why would I punch you?”

Billy looked at him like he was an idiot. Then he shrugged one shoulder—casual, easy. Deceptive.

“I thought I had a read on you,” he said lightly. “But you can’t always tell.”

“Pretty big risk to take,” Steve said without thinking.

“Nah. I knew you wouldn’t do anything worse than punch me.”

_Like rat me out._ The words remained unspoken, but Steve heard them all the same.

“How did you know that?” Steve was genuinely curious. What had made Billy Hargrove so sure that Steve wouldn’t take the first opportunity to ruin him?

Billy leaned back in his seat again. “You’re one of the good ones.”

The waitress came with their food then, setting down burgers and baskets of fries in front of them. Steve tore into his immediately—both for something to do and because all his nerves had made him ravenous. Opposite him, Billy did the same. It wasn’t that the date was going _badly_ , but Steve just felt… on edge. Like something was missing.

“So what does King Steve normally do on his dates?” Billy asked suddenly, though he sounded genuinely curious despite the choice of words.

Steve shrugged. “Dinner. Movies. You?”

Billy shook his head. “That or… you know.” He winked and Steve felt a thrum of heat course through him.

“Yeah…” Steve trailed off, silently cursing himself at how obviously breathless he sounded from that one small wink.

That was the problem. They were on a date, but they couldn’t _show_ it. If Steve could only reach out to touch Billy, even in some small way, he felt like he might be able to get a handle on this thing. Like he might be able to relax enough to get to know Billy properly. But if he couldn’t do that and they settled on just talking instead, he felt like he wouldn’t be able to ignore the lie of it. In some strange way, he felt like _they_ would have won—whoever they were.

He dropped his burger back on the plate, no longer hungry all of a sudden. Across the table, Billy frowned at him, a tiny smear of sauce unnoticed on the corner of his mouth.

Steve looked behind him; no one was watching. He reached forward and wiped the sauce away with his thumb, then drew his thumb into his lips, slowly curling his tongue around as he cleaned it off.

Billy flinched, eyes momentarily wide with panic before darkening with desire. But it wasn’t enough—the sense of discomfort and uncertainty was still there. It was holding them back.

Billy dropped his burger and ran a hand through his hair. The agitation was growing between them, and Steve no longer felt giddy with excitement. He felt strained, wrung out.

“I want to take you to the movies,” he said quietly.

“Me too.” The raw emotion in Billy’s voice was like a punch in the gut.

Why couldn’t it just be easy? Then it hit him.

“There’s a drive-in near here,” he said, unable to keep the excitement from his voice.

Billy’s eyes snapped to his. The slowly building agitation melted away, leaving something far lighter in its place. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, man.” Steve laughed, shoving another handful of fries in his mouth and talking around them. “Let’s go.”

Billy laughed. “Fucking gross, Harrington.”

Steve flipped him off and shoved more fries in to spite him. Billy laughed incredulously, then shook his head a little and swallowed the rest of his burger in two huge bites.

They practically ran from the diner, throwing money down on the counter and racing away into the night.

They didn’t play any music on the way there. In the silence of the car, Steve hesitantly reached over and took Billy’s hand in his. The answering squeeze and curl of fingers around his own made him feel a little drunk, a little happier than he thought possible.

The lady at the booth didn’t even look twice at them as Billy leaned out the window and bought their tickets. It was too dark to see, and she was too busy fluttering her eyelashes and adjusting her cleavage. As they drove away, they shared a glance, both their faces lit up with amusement before they started laughing again.

This was right. This was how it was meant to go. They pulled into their slot, right at the back in the dark where the other couples were too busy fogging up their own windows to care who was around them. Billy cut the engine, and in that moment of sudden silence, Steve found himself struck by just how fucking beautiful Billy was. The planes of his face were rimmed by the flickering light of the screen as it played the advertisements, his blue eyes piercing even in the darkness.

Well, this was a date, wasn’t it? So he did what he would normally do on a date and said it out loud.

“You look so fucking good.”

It wasn’t his best work, as far as compliments go, but he was still getting his head around all of this. And judging by the dull flush that rose along Billy’s chest in response, it worked just fine.

“You’re not looking too bad yourself.” Billy’s voice was low, the same kind of voice that Steve used when he was trying to get into someone’s pants.

But instead of jumping him, Billy just reached out and ran his fingers through Steve’s hair, brushing it over his ears. He made the move look natural, like it was perfectly normal what they were doing here.

In a strange burst of dream-like awareness, he realised that it was. Completely, perfectly normal. All the times that he had spent panicking about just how many male celebrities he crushed over as a kid faded away as he grabbed Billy by the back of the neck, drew him forward, and kissed him.

They lost track of the movie before it even started. All Steve could focus on was the smooth press of heated skin against his, the sharp coolness of the necklace sliding between them, the heat of Billy’s lips against his neck. The windows of the Camaro fogged up, and they became just another couple of teenagers out on a date.

“Fuck, you taste good,” Billy purred, pulling Steve to him until he was straddling Billy’s lap.

“It’s all those fries I shoved in there,” Steve mumbled, reluctant to pull away even to talk.

Billy laughed against Steve’s lips. Steve decided then that he’d never get enough of that sound, it was so filled with genuine warmth and humor.

They melted into each other then, lost in the sound and taste and feel of each other. Halfway through the movie, they ended up in the backseat, sprawled against each other with the movie speaker completely ignored. Steve was half-curled against Billy’s chest, his legs propped up on the centre console while Billy’s legs stretched out in the space behind the seats. It seemed Billy couldn’t take his eyes off the sight of Steve wearing his necklace, because every few minutes when they weren’t distracted, he’d reach down and run his fingers along the chain like he was memorising it by feel alone.

“Where’d you get the necklace?” Steve asked.

“Just something I bought back in Cali,” Billy said, the rumble of his voice passing between where their chests were pressed together. “I’ve had it for years.”

For some reason, that thought made Steve’s stomach fill with warmth. He wasn’t sure he’d ever been given something like that before—a gift that meant something, even if he maybe wasn’t totally sure what it meant.

“What’s it like in California?”

Billy chuckled. “Country boy curious about the big smoke?”

“Asshole.”

“You know it.”

The insults lacked bite; they were too warm and comfortable for that. Besides, Steve was beginning to realise how Billy worked, now. His words weren’t what you had to pay attention to. Once you learned that, the guy was an open book.

He opened his mouth to ask again, but Billy beat him to it, launching into a story about the sea and sand he’d grown up beside. His voice was soft beside Steve’s ear, more relaxed than Steve had ever heard it. Somewhere outside, the movie still droned on, but they were somewhere else. Content in their own little bubble where Steve could almost see the Californian sun breaking through the shadows, could almost hear the waves against the shore.

For a moment at the diner, Steve had been worried it was all going to fall apart before it began, but now he knew differently. They just had to find the spaces in between what was expected of them—the places where they could make something real without hiding any part of who they were. It wouldn’t work any other way, not for the two of them.

Billy’s chest was warm beneath his, and his fingers traced idle patterns along Steve’s shoulder. It was cozy in a way that few things were these days, for Steve. He not only felt warm, he felt _wanted._ He felt safe.

Pretty good prize for a shitty little car race.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to just be like a 1k ficlet lol... Well, it's done now! If I do more it will be as a series/separate work. Thanks for reading <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading <3


End file.
